Snobbite Regality
The Snobbite Regality (or just Snobbite, pronounced sn'beach-ay) is one of the many kingdoms to formally pop up at the end of The Holy War. Snobbite was located on the southeast coast of Pteris, surrounding Dragon Turtle Bay. About The colors of the Snobbite culture are White and Teal Green. Culture The Snobbite Regality, where the streets are quite literally paved with gold. A kingdom of wealthy merchants, the Snobbish people were particularly known during the Holy War for their uncanny ability to navigate the realm quickly and under the night’s sky, when draconic forces were most dormant. Operating under family names, Snobbite is home to countless mercantile bloodlines, most of whom specialize in a variety of exotic goods and luxuries, or who specialize in sailing merchandise. Most merchants enjoy an early retirement now in the new era of prosperity following the war, leaving the market to flower with smaller bloodlines and startup organizations hoping to get a chunk of the post-war boom. Besides their extraordinary upper class, the Snobbish people are also home to hard workers of the middle class. In the war times, these men and women made up the majority of the Snobbish armed forces, and as a holdover from the Holy War, all Snobbish households are required to keep armed weaponry easily available in case of emergency. Snobbish children learn how to handle a sword at a young age, at which point many also decide whether to go into business or into war. Both sides of the blade (as the saying goes) require a heavy proficiency in sea faring vehicles and young children gain their sea legs through lessons on the Dragon Turtle Bay as early as 6 years of age. From there, young minds learn either the important business skills such as calligraphy, textiles, boatwrighting, or smithing (for either jewelry or wartime goods). History During Realm War I Many young minds were assigned wartime professions during the war, and were shipped out across the ocean towards Dolina, Snobbite's most active front, where the people of Snobbite believe the last remnants of the Holy War still simmer. While most of the realm is happy to let the dragonborn survivors keep their last bit of territory, the challenge of an oceanic war brings a smile to Snobbite, knowing they will be fighting in the terrain that they were born to dominate. To the west, Snobbite dabbles with attempts to seize the Olyphemus river, which is the biggest source of fresh water in Pteris, and their preferred method of transport inland. However, Trudger has shut its borders and poses intimidating obstacles as the Snobbish try to smooth talk the brutish giants into allowing them free passage. Nawfar Nawfar '''(Meaning '''Water Lily)' '''is the capital of the Snobbite Regality. About Nawfar ''Written by the Gnome Bard Luskin Fretray "When the sunlight first hit it, I see why some call it the Great Jewel of Dragon Turtle Bay. It's an accent on the grand spires that blanket the gulf; the sunlight reflecting each and every way. The sun-rays creating and spraying every spectrum of light. At night it serves as a sort of glowing beacon or even as a natural lighthouse. A welcome sight for a Snobbite sailor returning. Gold is a common petty thing here in contrast to the rest of the realm. It's weaved and worn about clothing as a simple trinket. I've even heard some put it in their food! Nawfar. What wonders will I see here? It's name means Water Lily. And I see now why. The sprawling docks seem to extend out from the main thoroughfares of the city on the cresting hills that roll down straight into the bay. Like long fingers that push their defiance to the sea. Strange voices and foreign barking coat the streets as I make my way to the trade district. Then as though a punch, my nostrils were assaulted by many different scents of spices and incense. Then to the left I saw a simple wedding being held down an alley, with just a cleric and a man and woman, in front of a small altar. They held hands looking longingly at each other, almost ignoring the chaos of the city around. My eavesdropping was abruptly ended by a march making it's way down the main street. The "Sloshway" they call it. By a funeral procession. With men and women singing a low mournful dirge. They continued until they met the shore, then giving the blue wrapped linen body to another group, where they seemed to dip the body in the bay and then load it on a small canoe to tow it out to open sea. They were not alone. For just as the inner sprawling of the city were bustling, the bay was no exception. Beautifully painted galleons and simple rowboats and everything thing in between made and tossed their way about each other in the waters. Seemingly a choreographed dance of seamanship as one docked and another left the bay going out between the great braziers that served as the entrance. Each vessel fighting for dominance in its ostentatious display. I'm sure each one has a story and each one a history unique to it's own. Before too long I noticed with my trouncing about that I had only covered but a small part of the city. I found a little inn called the "The Deep End" where I think I'll make my headquarters for this part of my journey. There is much to write about here. In but one day I saw a whole experience of life. Marriages, funerals, business, grand displays of competition too. The Snobbite seem to have an understanding of the totality or the wholeness of life itself I think. I don't know what that exactly means now. But maybe I'll find out. Sitting at my little table I realized the staff were still moving as quickly as if the kitchen was on fire. I thought something was wrong or there was danger. And that's when I realized the fire that was in all of them for life. The fire was Nawfar itself. Some other travelers stopped one of the staff to sing. She smiled, slapped one of them with her hand towel and stood before them and began. I've never heard anything like it. No instrument, just a meaningful song I guess. Some other patrons asked her to sing again and it went like this: The Ides of Nawfar It's all there in the gospels, the Nafari girl Comes to pay her respects, but her mind is awhirl. When she finds the tomb empty, the stone had been rolled, Not a sign of a corpse in the dark and the col When she reaches the door, sees an unholy sight, There's this solitary figure in a Gold Band of light. He just carries on floating past the Nafari Hills, In an almighty hurry, aye but she might catch him still. "Tell me where are ye going Lord, and why in such haste?" "Now don't hinder me woman, I've no time to waste! For they're launching a boat on the morrow at noon, And I have to be there before daybreak. Oh I canna be missing, the lads'll expect me, Why else would the great sea itself resurrect me? For nothing will stop me, I have to prevail, Through the teeth of this tempest, in the mouth of a gale, May the angels protect me if all else should fail, When the last ship sails." Oh the roar of the chains and the cracking of timbers, The noise at the end of the world in your ears, As a mountain of oak makes its way to the sea, And the last ship sails. It's a strange kind of beauty, It's cold and austere, And whatever it was that ye've done to be here, It's the sum of yer hopes yer despairs and yer fears, When the last ship sails. Well the first to arrive saw these signs in the east, Like that strange moving finger at Balthazar's Feast, Where they asked the advice of some wandering priest, And the sad ghosts of men whom they'd thought long deceased, And whatever got said, they'd be counted at least, When the last ship sails. Oh the roar of the chains and the cracking of timbers, The noise at the end of the world in your ears, As a mountain of oak makes its way to the sea, And the last ship sails. And whatever you'd promised, whatever you've done, And whatever the station in life you've become. For the love of their Mother, and all of their sons, And whatever the weave of this life that you've spun, On the Land or in Heavens or under the Sun, When the last ship sails. Behind the Screen * The Snobbite Culture is heavily inspired by the Persian, Iranian, and Italian maritime culture, mostly those involved in the Punic Wars.